


On The Road Again

by sweetharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Flirting, Hate to Love, M/M, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Road Trips, Semi-Public Sex, Sharing a Bed, Submissive Harry, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 08:00:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14996396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetharry/pseuds/sweetharry
Summary: Louis desperately wishes Harry would just mind his own business. Louis wanted this trip to be about him. He wanted to be selfish for once, and do his own Eat Pray Love of sorts. Travel the country, get away from it all, and most importantly enjoy himself, and Harry is making that incredibly difficult. Harry Styles was seemingly put on this earth to piss Louis off, and so far, to the misfortune of Louis, he's done a spectacular job.or the one where Louis's magazine puts him on the travel column for the summer, and along with navigating his own summer-long cross-country road trip, he's forced to deal with his least favorite person on earth, Harry; a cocky photographer from a much richer magazine, who happens to be taking an almost identical trip.





	On The Road Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FullOnLarrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/gifts).



Louis wasn’t sure he heard his boss correctly.  
“I’m sorry, did you say you want me?”  
His boss chuckles lightly. “Yes, Tomlinson. We want you to take over the travel column this summer.”  
Louis is utterly dumbfounded, as in his opinion, he was the most mediocre writer on staff. It shocks him so much to the point where he can’t formulate words. Finally, after an awkward silence, all he manages to say is:  
“I’m 24.”  
His boss laughs again, and this time Louis’ sure it’s at him, rather than with him.  
“I’m aware. You have the freshest perspective on the staff, and most likely the least ties to the city, so we thought you would be the perfect candidate for cross country writing. Just you and the countryside for three months.”  
Louis tries to ignore the somewhat backhanded comment about Louis having no friends or relationships that could keep him from taking this opportunity, and mulls it over objectively. His boss is right, he doesn’t have anything keeping him anywhere, and frankly he had always felt like he could be doing more at this job; at least more than fact checking and writing the occasional opinion piece. Louis knows he is a good writer, he thinks he’s just been waiting for someone else to notice. It actually took him quite a few years to notice as well. He spent thousands of dollars getting a degree in public policy analysis before realizing that was shit, and that he would really rather pursue the pages and pages of writing stuffed up on his shelves than looking at lists and rules all day. Now, here is his boss giving him an opportunity to not only do what he wants, but to see all the parts of the country he had never seen, having spent his whole life cooped up in Allentown, PA, and in the midst of all his hesitation, he realizes there is no reason to be hesitating.  
“I accept.” he says, his hands only shaking a little as he says so.  
His boss grins at him. “Good to hear it.”  
He rifles through his desk and pulls out a blue folder, stuffed with papers.  
“Now that you’ve accepted, there is much work to be done in the three weeks prior to your departure.”  
He flips open the folder to reveal first, a contract of sorts, that Louis skims over before signing. Then, as his boss speaks, he eyes the handwritten list of places he’s to visit. The destinations span from Niagara Falls to the World’s largest ball of twine, to places Louis hasn’t even heard of.  
“Tommo, are you listening?” his boss asks, knowing full well Louis was not. He only tunes back in on account of hearing the nickname he dreads so much.  
“Course sir.”  
“As I was saying, in here you have visit list, packing list, where you’ll be staying, passwords and such for work stuff, approximate budget, and when and where you should pick up the van.”  
“You’re giving me a van?”  
“Did you think we would send you on a cross country trip without providing you with a van?”  
Louis shakes his head no, realizing his question was a little dumb.  
“No matter, you will pick it up at the end of the three weeks, but until then, Tomlinson, I want you studying all you can about this assignment. I’m not going to lie, this will be a brutal three months-- you will be traveling every day, writing columns every week, and being on your own. Now, I’m sure you can handle it, but I just want you to be careful, and be smart.”  
Louis nods. “I will, sir.”  
His boss nods him away, and just as Louis reaches the door, his boss calls him back with a;  
“Oh, and Tomlinson, watch out for Full Frame.” he says, pushing his glasses up onto his head. “Word on the street is they’re embarking on a similar summer trip, so be wary of anyone looking up to no good. Keep your writing to yourself.”  
He nods again, knowing full well the Full Frame was a bigger and better magazine that could easily squash out his work by putting out similar content.  
Louis heads back to his shared desk out in the main room, and sets the thick folder on his desk.  
Niall pops his head over the divider and looks down at Louis.  
“Whatcha got there?’ he asks, leaning farther over to try and see. Louis swats him away.  
“I’m on the travel column this summer.”  
“No shit.” Niall grins, “Congrats mate.”  
“Thanks. I have a ton of shit to do before I leave in three weeks. I have to figure out what a person needs for three months.”  
“Good thing you didn’t have any summer plans.” he taunts, and Louis makes a face at him.  
“Yes, Louis is alone and boring we’re all aware.”  
“Your words not mine.”  
*  
“I’ve got bad news.” is what Louis’ boss says two and a half weeks later. “Our van fell through.”  
Louis furrows his brows. “What does that mean? Am I not going?”  
He tries not to let it show, but he had really been looking forward to this trip. In his college years, Louis had been a very fun-loving guy, tons of friends, went out all the time, but as he got older the spark in his life has just sort of... faded. He had high hopes that this trip could be sort of a rebirth for him, but now it looks like it’s not happening.  
“Oh, you're going. It may not be in a state of the art media coverage van that would have made Full Frame quake in-”  
“Sir.”  
“Sorry. Anyways, my buddy restores vintage cars and I got him to lend me his VW van, you’ll be taking that.”  
Louis’s eyes widen. “Respectfully sir, will that kind of van even make it out of Pennsylvania?”  
His boss waves him away. “He says, it’s got the heart of an ox.”  
His boss sounds aggressively sure of the van, but Louis isn’t so convinced.  
“And if I break down?”  
“You won’t.”  
Louis knows there’s no use fighting it, and he’d rather go in that van than not go at all, so he keeps his mouth shut.  
“Okay.”  
*  
The past four days had gone by faster than anything in Louis’ life. Blurs of getting mail redirected, finding someone to feed his fish, buying new clothes, figuring out how to drive a van from the goddamn seventies, and packing food so tightly he doubts he will even be able to open it without a minor explosion. And despite all that shit, he couldn’t be more excited. As he stuffs his sleeping bag into the back of the van and sits down in the driver’s seat, he is more than ready to leave Allentown and start this new step in his life. Or, more accurately, to run away from his current life, but that’s an issue Louis is just going to ignore and deal with in ten years in a therapy session. He reaches into the bag beside him, and pulls out the list. The list displaying the 26 cities spanning across the country that he will call home for a few days at a time. He unfolds it and reads:  
“First stop: New York City.”  
*  
New York, New York

Going into this trip, Louis didn’t anticipate getting bored of being by himself this quickly. Despite being a self-proclaimed introvert, being alone in a van for hours on end has already proved too much for Louis. He doesn’t like being alone with his own thoughts for that long. At least New York, isn’t too far away from home, so it’s Louis can convince himself that the city can revive him. He has to admit, he’s always dreamed of visiting New York, and being a real tourist; a dream that gives him enough of a will to persevere. And when he drives into the city for the first time (very slowly on account of the traffic), it doesn’t disappoint. Everything is big and loud and bustling, and it makes Louis’ heart leap. As quickly as possible in the hundred-car gridlock, Louis makes his way to Time Square. Finding parking was nearly impossible, but all of the struggle, and the thick smell of smoke seem small in comparison to the way that being in a brand-new city makes him feel. He grabs his notebook and keys, and jumps out into the world in front of him. He’s quick to flip to the first open page and start noting what he sees around him. His boss emphasized his view of someone who had never left home being a strong angle for his pieces, so he focused a lot on how he felt being there for the first time. Scared, enthralled, stressed, and happy feelings fill his pages, along with more tangible observations of the world around him. Louis knows that the point of his work is to find out of the ordinary places for people to visit, but he can’t help himself. He goes to candy shops, and Broadway, and runs all the way to the Empire State Building, just to see if it was really that tall; and it was. Louis feels almost like a kid. He knows that he will eventually have to calm down, treat this as work rather than a vacation, but at least for the first city, he’s going to have fun. As he goes to sleep that night, notebook pages filled with scribbles, and his face completely sunburned, Louis thinks about the fact that tomorrow he’ll wake up and leave this city, only to find what the next place on his list has in store. 

Cape Elizabeth, Maine

When he pulls up into his second city, Louis immediately feels relaxed. He enjoyed New York, it was invigorating and terrifying, just as everyone said it was, but going from that to Cape Elizabeth feels like a different planet. No hustle and bustle. There is no rush; no cigarette smoke, no naked dancers; there is however, a great big beautiful ocean. The first one Louis has ever seen. He drives down the winding streets, trying desperately to keep his eyes on the road, but he keeps finding himself cocking his head, to get a better glimpse at the waves crashing up on the coast. Louis decides his first stop is the lighthouse, which he simply uses as an excuse to get himself to the ocean quicker. The town is fairly small, so Louis easily navigates the roads to the beach. He parks up at the lot at the top of the hill, and doesn’t have the patience to dig his trunks out of the tightly packed suitcase, so he rolls his shorts up to his thighs, grabs a notebook, and skitters out of the van and onto the sand. He makes it about halfway down the sand covered hill before realizing the grave mistake he had made.  
“Fuck.” he mutters, stopping in his tracks, and pulling his tennis shoes off, tennis shoes that are now completely full of sand. He pulls both off, and throws them off to the side, removing his socks as well for good measure. He’s frustrated at himself for about thirty seconds before he remembers the ocean, which sends him running once again towards the crashing waves, notebook clutched in his hand. He stops right at the edge of the tide, and dips his toe into the water. It’s cold. He doesn’t know why he expected the ocean to be like a heated pool, but he kind of did. He hesitates going further in for a second, until he hears a voice behind him.  
“Are you going to get in?”  
Louis turns around and stares at the man; the man who has the same rolled up shorts look as Louis going on, but is instead shirtless, and sporting a camera slung around his neck. Louis doesn’t say anything, and the man continues.  
“I mean-- you kind of seem like you’re having a midlife crisis.” he points out, eyeing Louis, “You were running then there was sand in your shoes, and then you got excited again, and now you’re just standing here.”  
Louis’ face betrays him with a blush, embarrassed someone, especially this attractive of a someone, had been watching.  
“I’ve never seen an ocean before.” Louis manages.  
The man raises his eyebrows. “Don’t get out much, then?”  
Louis shakes his head. “Not till now I guess.”  
“Well good on you.” he says, offering Louis a smile.  
There’s a beat, and then man breaks the silence once again.  
“Are you going to get in, then?”  
Louis furrows his brows. “Why’re you so invested in me getting in to this ocean.”  
“Well now I’m all invested in your dreams.” he says, before chuckling. “And I’m also a photographer. M’doing a cross country shoot, and I really really like your face.”  
The compliment is lost into oblivion, as Louis realizes that this man is definitely the one person he was instructed not to speak to.  
The second he said he was a photographer, Louis could see the Full Frame stink all over him. He’s tall and beautiful and cocky and can easily charm his way into getting any photos he wants. It’s annoying, frankly. Louis could bet his life this kid minored in photography in college, and had rich parents that got him the Full Frame job.  
“No thanks.” is all Louis says, as he walks away from him.  
“Well wait-”  
And when he cuts himself off, Louis is sure that the Full Frame hottie has zeroed in on the notebook Louis’ got in his hand. He lets out a low whistle, and lets Louis well enough alone, which Louis doesn’t mind one bit. Louis glance over his shoulder to see the man facing in a different direction, which gives him the freedom he needs to take the step into the ocean.

*  
For about thirty seconds, Louis felt free; and for the entire rest of the time, he felt like his feet were about to freeze and fall off. He wrote about how he felt like a human popsicle at the beach, and about how blue the water was. He definitely did not write about the attractive photographer who he irrationally hates as a result of their job, and even if he did, it would be in his personal notebook so no one would have to know. In Cape Elizabeth, Louis keeps his activities centralized on the coast. He looked at boats, beaches, and even went up into the lighthouse to try and capture the essence of what the city had to offer. Although this city is one that soothes him, and one who finds beautiful, he isn’t yet tied down to it. He still finds himself more excited to move on rather than to stay. The next city, and even the next state calls him onwards, even if it is Salem, Massachusetts, and Louis think he might die Blair Witch Project style. 

Salem, Massachusetts

Okay, Louis isn’t going to lie, he definitely regrets doing the self-guided tour in this dilapidated hell house. He told himself all morning long that the witch house and its creepy seventeenth century decor wasn’t scary, and that grown people should not be worried about being in the mansion alone; but now he’s here, and the shit is starting to freak him out.  
The floorboards creak underneath him, and he jumps; he stares at a painting too long and the eyes start to follow him. He tightens his grip on the notebook in his hand, and tries to pay enough attention to write an unbiased review of this place, but not enough to where the ghosts of Pastor Jonathan resurrects from the dead and comes for him. He’s halfway up the stairs, when he sees a light flash in the room just to the left, and his breath catches. Normally, he would act normally, and assume that other people are in the house on a tour just like he is, but clearly watching the Ghost Adventures episode of this place right before this has put him in the complete wrong headspace. The bright flash goes off again, and Louis is frozen on the stairs until an unfortunately familiar head pops around the corner.  
“Scared, are we?”  
Louis’s demeanor shifts instantaneously, as Full Frame fuckhead comes into view.  
“No.” he grumbles, hiking up the remaining stairs.  
“I think you’re following me.” the man from Full Frame replies. “Either,” he begins, stepping in front of Louis, preventing him from moving forward. “You’re seriously attracted to me, or you’re trying to find a way to get your sneaky little County Living hands on my photographs. Whatever the reason, I just don’t see it happening-- You’re bit short for my taste”  
Louis scoffs. “How about you stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours?” he asks. Trying to step around him, but to no avail.  
“You know I had that same thought when we were on the beach, but then I took one more second to think about it and realized it is much more entertaining for me to poke at your buttons. You’re very uptight.”  
Louis pushes around him, and stalks into the next room.  
“It’s Louis, right?” the man says, making Louis whip his head around.  
“Who told you my name?” he asks, icily.  
The man shrugs. “I have my sources. I’m Harry by the way.” he calls after Louis, and Louis ignores.  
He’ is not fazed by the man, well Harry, seeking out his name, and he is not uptight. Just because he’s not constantly jumping off cliffs, wearing silk shirts, man ponytails, and actively being a flirtatious dick to introverted magazine writers does not make him uptight.  
Louis desperately wishes Harry could just mind his own business. Louis wanted this trip to be about him. He wanted to be selfish for once, and do his own Eat Pray Love of sorts. Travel the country, get away from it all, and most importantly enjoy himself, and Harry is making that incredibly difficult. Harry Styles was seemingly put on this earth to piss Louis off, and so far, to the misfortune of Louis, he's done a spectacular job. As Louis makes his way up to the master bedroom, his mood is at this point, utterly and irrevocably dampened, and he doesn’t even feel scared anymore. He sits down on the bed because for some creepy reason you’re allowed to do that and pulls out his notebook. He flips to the third page and writes some random anecdotes about the place. As he writes, the words begin to flow out of him. He doesn’t want to half ass this assignment, and just from the small piece of history this house plays he can easily write three pages of notes. He sets his pen behind his ear, and flips through the pages, scanning his barely legible writing. He hears a click of sorts come from the door, but upon looking up, he sees nothing. Louis waves it off, and looks back down, but when he hears it again, and yet again sees nothing, he takes that as his cue to leave the witch house itself, and maybe head to the gift shop. As much as Louis doesn’t enjoy being spooked, he can’t say no to a t shirt that says major witch on it. His motel is average, and Louis gets bored sitting in it all day, so he ventures back out into the city. He was so bored he was willing to face another run in with Harry to get out of there. 

Atlantic City, New Jersey

When Louis arrives in Atlantic City, he is pretty sure it is the shitty east coast equivalent of Las Vegas. And he is less than impressed. It could be that he really isn’t into gambling, or excessive drinking, and he isn’t particularly fond of blowing money, but that’s just a guess. As he navigates his way down the strip, he longs for the beach and miraculous boardwalk he knows are just along the other side of the city, but he knows that readers, and his boss crave variety in these writings. This isn’t a trip that will tell of miraculous beaches throughout the country, it’s supposed to be about finding the hidden fun in every city, and that is what Louis intends to do. He parks the van, which looks uncomfortably at home in this city, and he heads out into the streets. Similar to Vegas, the limit of what you can do during the day is steep. The streets are full of tourists trying to make the most of their vacation, even though they all know nothing really starts until the night. 

Everglades, Florida

It’s not until he reaches the Everglades that Louis gets fed up with Harry. Like seriously fed up. Until this point it had been sort of a game. Harry appears unannounced, takes a dig at Louis and his place of business, flashes him a cocky smile and disappears into his expensive and highly over the top camper so for a period of time the two can live their own lives before doing this bit all over again in a new city. This “relationship” or whatever you wanted to call it was manageable for Louis because he knew that it really wasn’t about who he was as a person or who Harry was, it was a matter of current situations for both of them, not character.  
As if on cue, as Louis boards the boat for his Tour of the Everglades, he leans out onto the railing, only to have his gaze pulled by a voice behind him.  
“Seeing you everywhere I turn is really starting to get old.”  
“Am I distracting you?” Louis asks cheekily, and Harry rolls his eyes.  
“Actually, you’re making the camera act all fuzzy, almost like it’s offended or something.”  
Louis smirks.  
“That’s quite a feat you know,” Harry continues, raising his camera to snap a picture of the trees behind Louis. “Getting a two-thousand-dollar camera to be offended by you.”  
Louis glances at the hunk of black metal hanging around Harry’s neck, and thinks back to his own shitty android phone before letting out a low whistle.  
“Must be nice being spoiled.” he says, and although his tone held no real malice, he can immediately see the change in Harry’s expression.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Oh, come off, it, it’s obvious.”  
Harry raises his eyebrows.  
“I mean, you’re from Full Frame.” Louis explains. “You’ve got an arrogant attitude, a camera around your neck that costs more than my car, I’d say it’s a safe bet that you’re loaded. Probably had a real nice inheritance.”  
Louis may have a slight jaded attitude towards people who grew up well off. Being from a family where money was always tight, sacrifices were always being made. He rarely found compassion for people who were handed things. Especially when they acted like it.  
“You don’t think I could get here on my own?”  
‘Frankly you don’t have the bones for it Styles.” Louis states confidently. “All bark and no bite, and honestly, you reek of daddy’s money.”  
At that point, Harry grits his teeth, and that’s when Louis realizes it was no longer a joke, as Harry seethed at him.  
“Well Tomlinson since you’re such an expert on my life, maybe I should take a crack at yours.” he spits. “I can see it so clearly. Because we’re so big on assumptions today, why don’t I start with lower-middle class family, pretty average except dad left-”  
Louis narrows his eyes, and his fists clench at Harry’s unfairly spot on guess on his life.  
“Leaving big brother Louis to provide for the family, giving him this bullshit self-righteous attitude so he can feel better about himself by looking down on successful people to fill the void in his own life.”  
And damn him if that didn’t make Louis’ blood boil. He can feel his nails digging into his palms, his knuckles turning white, as he all but strangles the notebook in his right hand.  
Against his wishes, tears also form in the corners of his eyes but he wills them back. He can see the fear pass over Harry’s face, as he could clearly see what he just said was a big mistake. For fear of Harry seeing him cry, Louis musters up a “Fuck you,” before turning on his heels and stalking to the opposite side of the boat, no concern for tourists he blatantly bumped into on the way. He knew there was no other choice other than diving headfirst into alligator infested waters, so he decides to shove his feelings down and sucking it up after the gut punch he just received. He turned those undisclosed emotions surrounding his father taking off into complete and utter hatred for Harry Styles. 

The Everglades were beautiful and interesting, and Louis liked listening to the tour guides stories, he only wishes his trip was enjoyable. Each time he hears the click of the two-thousand-dollar camera behind him, the bottled emotions and fiery anger bubble up to the surface again, begging to be dealt with, but time and time again Louis refuses. He’s numb to what he should feel, and not content, but used to putting the task at hand ahead of his personal feelings, and right now that task was writing about the swamp. And maybe he had to fill his writing with a myriad of Shrek jokes that would be written out later to make himself feel better, but it gave him a little bit of joy. After two excruciating hours and twenty-eight excruciating (ft. a cool two minutes where he got to hold a baby alligator), the boat finally docks back where they began. Louis exits quickly and makes his way to his van. He ignores the faint sound of someone who sounds an awful lot like Harry Styles calling his name, and gets into the van. As much as Louis wants to convince himself that years of shoving down his emotions has hardened him, and made him jaded, the second Louis turns out onto the street, he starts to cry. Fat tears stream down his cheek and Louis makes little effort to brush them away.  
Thus far, this trip has not been going as he expected, or even going particularly well. He told himself time and time again this trip would be fun, that this trip would be for him, but here he is, stuck with two weeks of unproofread articles, and more tears in one night than he has shed in the past three years. Instead of driving right to his hotel, Louis drives out onto the road to clear his head. He parks on a shoulder, leaving his hazard lights on before relaxing back in his chair. He glances from his work notebook to his personal notebook before grabbing the personal one and jumping out onto the grass. It’s times like these when Louis get something that can only be described as the opposite of writer’s block. It never happens in his professional writing, oh no, it only rears its head when Louis feels intense personal emotions, and from the second pen hits paper Louis blinks and there’s ten pages filled. He never looks back at that writing. Not the pages from prom, not from when he came out, and not now. Despite his minor emotional breakdown, the rest of Louis’s stay in the Everglades was tranquil. He enjoyed the scenery, and the southern hospitality, but even those couldn’t keep Louis’ mind from moving forward to the next city. 

Eureka Springs, Arkansas

Louis’ stays in Montgomery and New Orleans were not memorable, but neither contained Harry Styles, which was great for him. He looked at art, got his fortune told, and even learned some really interesting history about the Civil Rights Movement. Somehow, Louis had progressed quicker than normal, probably on account of his shorter stays in the last two cities, but Louis ends up on the outskirts of Eureka Springs, about three days ahead of schedule. From knowing nothing about Eureka Springs to spending five seconds in the town, Louis has deduced it is the cutest fucking place on planet earth. A brightly colored town reminiscent of Disney world littered with friendly faces, and nestled in the mountains is exactly the kind of hidden wonder Louis was looking to discover on this trip. And on top of all of this, Louis hasn’t seen Harry Styles in days- he is on top of the world. He chooses his first activity in the town will be getting lunch on the Eureka Springs and North Arkansas Railway, a 1920’s era train with a 1920’s themed dining car that brings him peace, and a good space to write through his meal. And he writes and writes, only looking up to watch the scenery outside, feeling that out of all the places he’s been, this little town is the one pulling his pen to write from his heart. The restaurant on its own had him sold, but he thinks it’s mostly because it reminds him of the kind of life he wanted as a child. He’d watch Gilmore Girls over his mother’s shoulder after long nights of work, and he would be transported to a town that was like one big family. Whatever the reason, Louis thinks that he wouldn’t mind staying in Eureka Springs. After his train ride, Louis returns to the depot, and takes his van over to check into where he’ll be staying for the duration of his time in Eureka Springs, a small bed and breakfast called Arsenic and Old Lace. He pulls in front and grabs his suitcases before making his way up to the old house nestled in the crest of the Ozarks. He makes it inside and the lobby is absolutely crawling with straight couples. Louis hadn’t realized that little ol’ Eureka Springs, Arkansas was such a destination spot for the straights™, but he doesn’t take too much issue with it as he walks up to the front desk.  
“How may I help you today?”  
“HI!” Louis chirps. “So, I had a reservation for Monday, but my trip went a little quicker than planned.”  
“Last name?”  
“Tomlinson.”  
She clicks through on her computer, and nods.  
“Yes, it’s right here. Do you need a refund?”  
“No no- nothing like that, I was just wondering if I could, I don’t know, transfer it for a room tonight?”  
She makes a face. “I’m sorry Mr. Tomlinson but this weekend is actually strictly a couple’s retreat weekend. We aren’t accepting single reservations until Monday.”  
Louis’ face falls but before he can dwell on the fact that just as things were going good for him this happens, a voice behind him says:  
“Well that’s lucky.”  
Louis’ head whips around to see of all the people in the world, Harry Styles sidling himself up beside him. He slips his hand into Louis’, and laces their fingers, and Louis is seething. Harry ignores him, and pulls Louis’ hand up to his mouth to press a kiss to Louis’ knuckle.  
“My boyfriend and I were looking for a romantic weekend anyway.”  
Louis starts to say something, and Harry squeezes his hand so hard, Louis cuts himself off.  
The woman at the desk smiles softly.  
“Well in that case…” she says, clicking through the rooms once again. “I have the Monet room available? French themed and whatnot.”  
“Ah C’est magnifique. Nous aimons la culture Française” Harry smiles, handing her his credit card.  
The woman giggles, a blush falling over her face; Louis rolls his eyes. “Sorry I don’t speak French.” she admits, and Harry waves it away.  
“Neither does this one and we spent all of last summer in France with my mom.”  
“Really?” she asks Louis, who up until this point in the conversation had convincingly played a mute person.  
“Uh yeah.” he manages. “I just went for the baguettes.”  
She laughs again and Harry joins her.  
“Well no worries darlin’, there’s only English around these parts.”  
“Good to know.”  
“Well,” she says, “Here’s your room key. You two make an adorable couple.”  
“Thank you.”  
Harry takes the keys and picks up Louis’ suitcase before pulling him over to the stairs, their hands still clasped together. As soon as they’re out of earshot, Louis yanks his hand from Harry’s.  
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, pulling his bag from Harry’s grasp.  
“Can you please wait till we get to the room before you bitch me out?”  
“Oh, I can “bitch you out” whenever I damn well please Harry Styles, and don’t worry, I’m not deterred by an audience.” Louis says adamantly, stopping at the foot of the second staircase. Harry turns on his heels and glances down at him, having already made it to the top.  
“I’m just trying to get to the room I so graciously got for us, so while you’re compiling your list of grievances maybe slip in a thank you.”  
Louis laughs bitterly, stomping up the stairs. “Thank you for arranging a night in Arkansas where I’m locked up with the worst person who has ever lived? Pass.”  
Harry lays a hand over his heart. “That hurts, Tomlinson.” he says, sarcastically. “But I ask you- worst person who ever lived is an ambitious title. Do I really deserve that?”  
“Believe me, it suits you.”  
Harry stops abruptly in front of the first door at the top of the stairs, glancing up and down at it before shoving the key into the lock and turning it.  
He pauses and turns back at Louis.  
“Well what about Hitler?”  
“What?”  
“Well- I think I was a douchebag to you, but does that really make me worse than a genocidal dictator?”  
“Oh my god.”  
“It’s a valid question!!!”  
“Just open the damn door.”  
Harry turns the knob and lets the door creak open. In the midst of an argument, both are cut off by the sight of the room.  
“Wow.” Louis breathes, taking in the light blue walls, the big comfy bed, the balcony, etc.  
He can’t help himself in dropping his duffel bag at the door and throwing himself onto the bed. “I take it back.” Louis says, snuggling up to the thick pillows. “For this room, you’re one better than Hitler.”  
“Don’t make me blush.”  
Harry picks up Louis’ suitcase, and sets it, along with his own luggage, onto the dresser.  
“I still hate you though.” Louis informs him, “So I get first dibs on the Jacuzzi and you have to sleep on the floor.”  
“Actually, I’m afraid I have to play the “I paid for the room” card, so I get the bed.”  
Louis snorts. “Bet.”  
“What are you willing to bet?”  
Louis thinks for a second.  
“I bet I can find a better story than you.” he states confidently.  
“I don’t find stories. I take pictures.”  
“A picture is worth a thousand words Styles, if you find something better than me you get the bed, easy as that.”  
Harry hesitates for a second, but he agrees.  
“You’re on.”  
“Five hours enough time?” Louis asks, checking his watch.  
“I can do it in two.”  
“Fine by me.”  
*  
When they return, Louis halfheartedly produces the historical district, and a little restaurant that was one of the first in the city. Harry on the other hand, easily comes back with Ghost tours, an Onyx Cave, and a freaking castle filled with rare plants. Louis’s jaw drops as he looks at the picture.  
“How the hell did you make it to all of those?” Louis asks, dumbfounded, and embarrassed that his option was so shitty.  
Harry shrugs. “Hitched a ride with some girls.”  
“Un-fucking-believable.”  
Harry grins. “So?” he asks, and Louis can hear the smugness in his voice.  
“Of course, you get the bed, Jesus. Mine was shit compared to yours.”  
Harry shrugs. “Just the way the cookie crumbles Tomlinson.”  
Louis huffs, to the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he’s getting his molars, he peeks his head out at Harry, who is now shirtless, and lounging on the bed, an image Louis wishes he could erase from his mind. At this point, he only wants to associate angry feelings with Harry, nothing more. After they’ve both settled in for the night, Harry in the huge comfy bed, and Louis on the floor, they turn out the lights, and all of the sounds around them cease.  
It’s finally quiet as Louis reluctantly snuggles into the hardwood floor. He tries to get the blanket to function as both a blanket and a mattress, but to no avail. No matter how many positions he tries or how many times he flips his pillow, the floor is not comfortable. Finally, he gets into a semi-respectable position, and he hears Harry sigh.  
“Come on.” Harry grumbles, voice low with sleep.  
Louis pops his head up and glares at Harry in the bed.  
“What?”  
“Just get in the bed dumbass.”  
“I’ll pass.”  
“Really?” Harry says dryly. “You hate me that much you’d rather sleep on the floor than a foot away from me.”  
Louis considers it, and finds himself quietly standing up and heading over to the bed. Harry moves over, and shifts onto his back as Louis gets in beside him.  
The silence between them is thick, but Louis ignores the awkwardness and closes his eyes.  
“Hey Louis?” Harry mumbles.  
“Hm?”  
“M’sorry for what I said back in Florida.”  
Louis opens his eyes, and shifts to face Harry who was still staring up at the ceiling.  
“I didn’t mean to say anything like that. What you said just struck a chord with me in a bad way.”  
Louis furrows his brows. “What do you mean in a bad way?”  
Harry hesitates for a second, but as he looks to Louis, eyes boring into his through the darkness, he begins.  
“Well uh you said stuff about ‘daddy’s money’ and me not being able to get where I am without him….”  
He pauses for a second.  
“I grew up in the middle of a messy divorce. I lived with my mom and sister and we never had, well any money really. We only had enough money to send one kid to college and Gemma was older and smarter than me, so I grew up kind of thinking my life was going to go nowhere.”  
Louis bites down on his lip, feeling his heart sinking a little.  
“But I found photography and I practiced it a lot and got pretty good. I sold my car to get my first real camera and people liked my photos. So yeah, I have some money now, but it wasn’t always like this.”  
A beat passes.  
“We’re not so different you and I, are we Tomlinson?”  
Louis is quiet for a very long time, feeling unsure what to say. His assumptions about Harry were really shit. He couldn’t find the words to express an apology, so he settles on:  
“Does your mom really live in France?”  
Harry smiles. “She always wanted to when I was younger, so when I got enough money I wanted to help make her dream come true. She always did everything for me, it was the least I could give her.”  
“That’s really fucking nice of you.” Louis says before he can help himself.  
“Good night Louis.”

Roswell, New Mexico

Even though ghosts freak him the fuck out, and his night in the Stanley Hotel right after Eureka Springs was nothing short of horrific, there was one aspect of the supernatural world that Louis loved: Aliens. Louis had a weird thing with liking aliens. He thinks he likes them because he knows that they really exist and because Lilo and Stitch being the only VHS he had growing up. He’s about ten minutes from Roswell, alien capital of the world, when he sees it. When he sees him.  
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Louis grumbles.  
After their night in Eureka Springs, Harry checked out of the B&B before Louis woke up, went MIA for the next two cities, and now appears out of thin air, sat on top of his state of the art camper, stranded on the side of the road. Despite their little heart to heart, Louis wouldn’t say he considers Harry a friend, so he’s reluctant to pull over beside him on the shoulder of the road, but he finds himself doing it anyway. Louis steps out of the car, and pushes his sunglasses back up onto his head.  
“Hey,” he calls, pulling Harry’s gaze, “You, with the legs.”  
Harry rolls his eyes. “Come to mock?”  
Louis shrugs. “I mean, you have to admit it’s pretty fancy your billion-dollar camper broke down halfway through the trip while my van that should have been left to die in the last century is thriving.” he says, stifling a chuckle. “Fate is a cruel mistress Harry Styles.”  
“That she is.” Harry agrees, his voice a little sadder than Louis expected. “And she’s about to cost me my job.”  
And that’s when Louis’ moral compass gets the better of him. He sighs.  
“Where you headed?”  
“Ever heard of Roswell?”  
Louis nods slowly. “Need a ride?”  
Harry raises his eyebrows. “This seems like a ploy to kidnap me.”  
“Hey,” Louis says, raising his hands, “If you want to stay on the side of the road be my guest.”  
“No, please. Just a second.”  
He hops down from the camper and Louis leaves him to collect his things. He shuffles around in the rv for about five minutes before emerging with some suitcases and his camera bag in tow. Louis opens the back of his own van and lets Harry drops his things into it before returning to the front seat.  
“Do you need to do anything about that?” Louis asks, motioning to the, now abandoned, vehicle.  
Harry shrugs in response. “Full Frame can take care of it.”  
“Then we’re off.”  
*  
“So, what were you planning on doing in Roswell?” Louis asks, absentmindedly drumming his thumbs on the wheel.  
“Archibald Smith Plantation Home.”  
“Dark.” Louis comments.  
“Mhm.”  
Then it hits Louis. “Wait. You’re going to the alien capital of the country and you’re not seeing anything remotely intergalactic?”  
Harry wrinkles his nose. “Course not. That’s tacky and overdone. What would I even take photos of?”  
“You’re so pretentious oh my god.” Louis moans. “There’s more to the world than trees and swamps and nature shots. There are cities full of people, Styles! People who love aliens.”  
Harry snorts. “My boss likes the nature shots.”  
“Well have you ever tried anything else?”  
“Like what? People in tie dye shirts and tin foil hats who believe in aliens? Pass.”  
“I’m offended by your gross stereotypical ideals on the people or Roswell.” Louis tells him. “Yes, those people most likely exist there, but you have to dig a little deeper, Styles.”  
“Fine. I’ll make a deal with you. You show my all your ugly alien attractions in this city and I show you my side of things in the next city.”  
Louis furrows his brows. “You’re going to Phoenix?”  
“No.” Harry states, matter-of-factly. “But you’re going to Sedona.”  
And before Louis can get a word in on how he cannot stray from his own trip, Harry says.  
“Hey, Tomlinson, we’re here.”

*  
Rule one - you’re not allowed to mock.” Louis says, prepping Harry on the street outside of the Area 51 Museum.  
“Done.”  
“Rule two- you must try to enjoy yourself. You can’t be all artsy and broody, it makes you much more intolerable than you realize.”  
Harry chuckles. “I’ll try not to brood.”  
“Rule three- I want you to take pictures. Try and look for that spark you find when you look at trees and shit in what you see here.”  
A beat passes. “Okay, I will.”  
*  
And as promised, Harry does. He follows Louis around his kitschy, cheesy alien museum, and takes pictures of the people in goofy clothes. In the midst of all of it though, Louis can see that Harry is having fun. He can tell the way he has precision in photographing people’s shoes, and the space suits, and other little things, that he is enjoying this kind of photography he had been so adamant in not taking part in.  
“You had fun.” Louis says, that night before they go to bed.  
Harry looks up from his camera and knits his brows together.  
“Did I?”  
Louis nods. “I can tell that you did. You didn’t mock.”  
Harry shrugs. “Told me not to.”  
There’s a pause, and Harry continues. “And I did get some nice pictures out of it. There a little out of the box, but I think that’s good.”  
Louis smiles a little. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but...”  
“Hey, don’t hold your breath. We may have had a little fun here, but my city is going to blow this place out of the water.”  
Louis rolls his eyes at Harry’s empty threat, and turns away from him.  
“Whatever you say.”

Sedona, Arizona

In the car the next morning, Harry works to make a case for getting Louis to change his destination from Phoenix to Sedona, a promise Louis made that he never intended to keep.  
“I held up my end of the bargain.” Harry argues, and Louis waves him away.  
“I told you, I can’t just change my course when I feel like it! I got a list from my boss, and he expects me to follow it.”  
“Where’s your phone?” Harry asks suddenly.  
“In my backpack.” Louis says carefully. “Why?”  
Without answering, Harry digs the phone out of Louis’ backpack and begins to scroll through contacts.  
“What’s your boss’ name?”  
“Are you trying to Mr. Robot-hack me?”  
“Only trying to help you Louis.” Harry assures him, but Louis does not feel assured. “Now what’s his name?”  
“Darryl.” Louis hesitantly tells him. “But what are you-”  
“Shh.”  
Harry presses the call button, puts it on speaker, and clears his throat a little as it rings.  
Louis white knuckles the steering wheel, unhappily anxious as a result of Harry’s behavior.  
“Hello?” Darryl answers, and Louis holds his breath.  
“Darryl.” Harry says, his voice all pinchy and high like Louis’. It makes Louis endlessly annoyed how much it sounds like him. “I know I’m not usually one to go with the flow, but my heart is telling me to go to Sedona. Is-is that okay?”  
Louis whaps him in the arm for that stutter at the end.  
“Of course, Tommo!” Darryl says, and Louis can hear the wide grin on his face through the phone. “The list was loose. You do not have to go to every city if you find another one you like better. Glad to hear everything is going well.”  
“It is.” Harry squeaks out, and Louis rolls his eyes.  
Darryl chuckles. “Have fun, Tommo. See you in a month.”  
“Bye!”  
Harry hangs up the phone and immediately laughs his ass off at his “spot-on” Louis impression.  
“Oh, shut up.”  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m calm.” Harry says, trying to compose himself, and failing.  
Finally, after his laughter dies down, Harry is able to hold a conversation again.  
“No excuses, Tommo. You’re coming to Sedona.” Harry states, tucking Louis’ phone back into his backpack.  
“Please don’t call me Tommo.” Louis pleads, his demeanor changing from angry to desperate. “I hate it when he calls me that but it’s been two years and I’m too passive to tell him.”  
“Oh my god.” Harry says. “Louis, you have to tell him.”  
“It’s too late.”  
“You sure are something else.”  
Louis rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Off to Sedona I guess.”  
“Off to Sedona.”  
*  
After hours in the van, Harry pulls out a silk scarf from his camera bag and tosses it to Louis, telling him to put it on.  
“Is this why you wanted to drive?”  
Harry smirks mischievously.  
“I’m just letting you know.” Louis says, as he ties it around his eyes. “I hate this.”  
“I assumed you would.”  
“Why do you even have this?” Louis asks, fiddling with the material.  
“It’s cute.”  
Louis chuckles. As he tightens the scarf, he can really tell, as it brushes the edge of his nose, that it smells very strongly of Harry. Harry has this scent that’s a little cologne-y but more than that he smells like clean, and fresh and like he spends a lot of time at the beach. It’s actually surprising how nice he smells after the amount of days he has spent in a van, because Louis knows for a fact he smells like old McDonalds and dirt.  
“Louis why do you always zone out when I’m talking?” Harry asks.  
“Because you’re boring?” Louis quips back easily, making Harry laugh.  
“I was asking if you have any guesses as to what we’re doing in Sedona.”  
“Well you haven’t told me anything so not really.”  
“Oh, come on you’ve had tons of hints.” Harry argues. “Think about it Tomlinson, use your context clues.”  
Louis reaches out to whap him on the arm, but the silk scarf and it’s good Harry smell heavily throws off his perception.  
“Fine.” Louis says, resigning himself to thinking about it. “You made me change into a swimsuit...um you asked me if I had a sensitive nose, so I’m assuming you’re taking me to swim in a toxic waste dump in the desert?”  
“You got me.”  
It’s about ten minutes later when Louis feels the van stop, and hears the keys turn out.  
“Don’t look yet.” Harry instructs, hopping out of the car quickly, and shutting the door behind him. It’s quiet for a second and then he opens Louis’ door, scaring him a little. He feels Harry’s hand slip into his own, and Harry’s other hand snake around his waist to help him out of the car, and Louis feels his face get exponentially hotter, as he does so.  
He shakes it off quickly and steps out onto the rocky road beneath them.  
“Can I take it off now?” Louis asks, fiddling with the blindfold.  
“Go for it.”  
Louis peels off the silk scarf and is met with a bunch of big sandy rocks.  
“Wow.” Louis comments, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Nature is so beautiful.”  
“Obviously we’re not there yet, you have to walk a little Louis, it’ll be good for you.”  
Louis groans, and tosses Harry’s scarf back at him, which Harry catches, and uses as a headband like the artsy fucker he is.  
Harry slings his camera around his neck, and Louis grabs his backpack that Harry had brought out for him containing his notebook and other essentials before starting the trek.  
“Am I going to regret this?” Louis asks Harry, who is trailing about four steps ahead of them.  
“Definitely not.”  
*  
Wrong. Wrong. Harry was so wrong. Louis regrets it immensely. And it’s not because of the hellish trek through the desert which, wasn’t great either, but the real reason was much worse. It’s because Harry has been trailing ahead of him for ten minutes and Louis, for the life of him, cannot stop staring at Harry’s ass. Unbeknownst to Louis, Harry decided to invest in the shortest smallest yellow swim trunks of all time and anytime he tries to rip his brain away from it, and tune into whatever bullshit Harry was spewing out of his mouth, his eyes just zero back in on it. It is in no way Louis’ fault though. Harry’s swimsuit is much too tight for it to actually be his size, and his ass is really nice. You know you wouldn’t expect it to be that nice because he’s all lanky and the pants he wears hide how perky it really is-  
“You know you ignoring me is getting a little old.” Harry pouts, making Louis realize he had stopped walking.  
“Sorry.” Louis says immediately, setting his hand on Harry’s forearm gently, before he can stop himself. “What were you saying?”  
Harry clears his throat. “I’m uh gonna take a picture over there, I’ll be right back.”  
Louis nods, and pulls his hand away, letting Harry veer off the side of the road, towards two girls sitting in the small grassy area. Harry kneels down beside them, and taps the first girl on the shoulder, who listens to him intently. Louis cocks his head, as the girl nods, and stands up, revealing the red flowers she had in her hands. Harry shifts her around, moving her shoulders, and the way the flowers fall in her hands, etc. When he is content with it, he kneels down once again, putting the ass on FULL display, as well as taking his bottom lip between his teeth He snaps a couple of shots from different angles, before producing a piece of paper and a pen from his camera bag for the girl to sign. Photo release or something, Louis assumes. Harry thanks the girl, and she smiles at him, before taking one red flower and tucking it behind Harry’s ear. Harry returns to where Louis is standing, with the little red flower tucked into his curls and a soft smile adorning his face.  
“I told you there is beauty in photographing people.” Louis says smugly, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s.  
“I was just taking pictures of the flowers.”  
“Whatever you say.”  
Thankfully for the rest of their trek, Harry walks beside Louis, so there is no opportunity for ass hypnotization to occur.  
“Okay.” Harry says, stopping in front of a larger rock formation. “It’s right around this corner.”  
“Thank god.”  
Louis uses his last burst of energy to round the corner, and when he does, his jaw drops.  
Spread out in front of him is an expansive, beautiful, breathtaking Hot Springs.  
“Close your mouth, Tomlinson.” Harry teases, raising his camera up to snap a picture. “You’ll catch flies.”  
Louis snaps his mouth shut, but continues to admire what is out in front of him.  
“You want to go in?” Harry asks, seeing the glint in Louis’ eyes.  
Louis nods quickly, and scampers ahead, stopping just at the edge of one of the empty Springs. He glances back at Harry who quickly pulls his camera from his eyes to back down around his neck.  
“The smell does get worse as you get closer.” Harry says quickly, as if to distract Louis from the odd interaction they just had. “That’s why I asked about your nose.”  
And Louis decides to just ignore Harry’s weird behavior. “Well even if it was sensitive, nothing would stop me from getting in.” Louis tells him, as Harry sidles up beside him.  
Louis leans down to untie his shoes, while Harry merely kicks off his sandals and begins unbuttoning his shirt. Louis curses his mom for teaching him to always double knot as he hurriedly works on the laces.  
“Please, take your time.” Harry mocks. Louis looks up with the intention of glaring at him, but when he’s met by Harry, standing with his hands on his hips, whose shirt had long since discarded, all he can really do is duck his head back down to his feet.  
“Don’t wait on my account. Jackass.” he manages, trying to pretend Harry’s tanned, tattooed torso still made him annoyed rather than turned on as it apparently does now. God, what is happening to him. Louis pushes those thoughts down for later, and finally succeeds in getting his shoes untied and off his feet.  
Harry fakes a yawn as Louis sits beside him and submerges his feet in the warm water.  
“Glad to see you’ve finally made it, only four icebergs went by while I was waiting.” He teases, which Louis ignores.  
“Genuinely though, you need better shoes.” Harry says, bumping him in the shoulder, unintentionally sending a shock through Louis’ body.  
“Let’s just get in the water, okay?” Louis says, quickly submerging himself in the scalding hot water. He kind of regrets how quickly he got in because truthfully it was very hot, but he takes it over having to continue consistently dealing with the fact that he is now fully attracted to Harry Styles. Fuck.  
*  
After getting to relax in the Hot Springs, and having time to think without Harry talking to him and touching him, Louis has decided it is not weird for him to find Harry attractive. In fact, he compiled an entire mental list of reasons why it is okay that will probably be recorded in his notebook later just to make sure he fully remembers it is okay. 

Why It’s Okay to think Harry is Hot  
By Louis Tomlinson

1\. Harry is objectively a hot human being.  
2\. Just because you find him attractive, doesn’t mean you have a crush on him. Because you really don’t. Harry is actually very annoying.  
3\. Harry is flirty and artsy and he smells good so he’s really just begging to be the object of someone’s attraction.  
4\. Harry is oblivious to the fact the you think he is attractive so the feeling will remain unnoticed which is what you want.  
5\. His ass is REALLY nice. 

*  
“I knew you would like this.” Harry mumbles, bringing Louis out of his thoughts. Louis glances over at Harry who is relaxing beside him, his eyes shut tight, and his arm lazily draped around the side of the Spring.  
“Are you the expert on what I like?” Louis muses, and Harry chuckles a bit.  
“No,” he says, “but I think you’re super tense and I thought this was a pretty place for you to relax.”  
Before Louis can respond, Harry continues, which seems to be happening a lot.  
“I had another place planned earlier in the trip for this city, but I thought this one would be nice for you.”  
Louis’ heart thumps a little. “Thanks Harry.”  
Harry opens his eyes and smiles gently. “S’nothing.”  
They stare at each other for a second, before Louis pulls his gaze away.  
“Um, uh we should only stay about a half an hour more, so we can get into the hotel.”  
Harry nods. “And we leave early in the morning, so I’d soak up as much as you can right now,” Harry says. As he does, he reaches out a runs a hand down Louis’ arm quickly, before leaning back and closing his eyes again. Louis’ mind runs wild, trying to interpret what the hell that touch was supposed to mean, and after about a five-minute silent panic, Louis finally lets himself relax again and take in his Hot Springs. 

Las Vegas, Nevada

After their tryst in the Hot Springs, Louis got a little bit of a break from his intrusive thoughts about his travel companion, as Harry’s basically been sleeping the entire way to Vegas. When they got back in the car, Louis gave him a blanket and turned on some Bon Iver bullshit that, as predicted, lulled Harry to a peaceful indie sleep. Finally, Louis felt he could breathe normally again. Louis thinks about the lack of writing he did in Sedona as he was totally submerged in a big natural bathtub with Harry, so he decides he and Harry will split up in Las Vegas. Not only will he be able to get some writing done on his own, which is pretty much the only way he likes to write first drafts, but he will also get a welcome day of self-exploration in the city. 

He assumes the city will be similar to Atlantic City, which wasn’t really his fancy, but he hopes on his mission, he might be able to find something good to write about. As a result of Vegas being the city that it is, Louis is also resigned to sleeping in the van tonight which should be one of the more interesting nights he’s had on this trip. But that’s something he’ll think about later. It’s early afternoon when Louis pulls up into a parking lot on the edge of the strip to wake Harry up. 

He searches around for something thick enough to smack Harry with to wake him up, but when he glances at his face all nestled into the blanket, and soft eyes and quiet snores, he stops. He instead reaches a hand over to squeeze Harry’s shoulder, and gently shake him awake.  
“Harry, we’re here.”  
Harry groans softly, blinking a couple times as he shifts awake.  
“I’m up, I’m up.” he mumbles.  
Harry squints a little as he looks out over the edge of the strip.  
“I don’t know if it is just because it’s daytime, but Vegas looks a little underwhelming.”  
“I know what you mean.”  
Harry shrugs, and tosses the blanket into the back of the van.  
“By the way,” Louis says, “I’ve decided we’re going to split up in this city.”  
Harry raises his eyebrows. “Oh, I don’t know Tomlinson; a little thing like you wandering the streets alone doesn’t sit right with me.”  
Louis glares at him. “I don’t need to be looked after Harry.”  
“Don’t I know it.”  
Louis huffs. “Bottom line is I’m sick of you so take your little camera and gamble your heart out and find nature in this godforsaken city. I’m going to find Krispy Kreme and try and sneak into the Osmond’s show.”  
“Godspeed.”  
*  
Louis isn’t that captivated by Vegas, so after getting Krispy Kreme, and hitting the big highlight casinos, he finds himself back at the van pretty early. He saw Harry at one point throughout the day, carrying two bags down the strip, and he seemed a lot more intent on buying things than taking photographs. Very odd. It’s even more odd when harry returns to the van about twenty minutes after Louis, with more bags in tow.  
“Did some shopping?” Louis asks, motioning to the now five large bags Harry has clutched in his arms.  
He nods. “For you.”  
Louis snorts. “Yeah right.”  
Harry smiles. “I’m not kidding.” he insists.  
Louis gives him a funny look, and Harry continues. “Look I know we’re sleeping in the van tonight so I got some stuff to make it all, I don’t know, better”  
In a mini state of shock, Louis smartly responds: “Why?”  
Harry shrugs. “I wanted to.”  
“Okay.”  
Harry grins. “I’m going to make it all over and you’re not allowed to look until the end, okay?”  
“Fine.” Louis says, getting into the driver’s seat. Not even a second later, Harry tosses the silk scarf at him again, a cheeky smirk playing on his lips, and Louis rolls his eyes.  
“How many times am I supposed to let you casually blindfold me without bringing up the fact this may be a kink of yours? Harry chuckles casually, while Louis curses himself for letting the flirty comment slip out so easily.  
“I’d say if anything I’m into gags.”  
And that’s when Louis’ brain shuts down and his jeans tighten. He falls completely silent and he literally can’t think of anything except Harry spread out on a bed in front of him with a gag in his mouth, Jesus fucking-  
“Are you short-circuiting, Tomlinson?” Harry asks. “Didn’t think you were that much of a prude.”  
“I’m not.” he snaps, placing in his hands in in his lap, trying to check out the damage Harry’s comment did to his nether region. “Also, are you done yet? This isn’t Queer Eye.”  
“Can’t I be Bobby Berk for one day?” he asks. “Let me have this.”  
“Only if I can be Tan.”  
“Fine.”  
It’s about ten more minutes of idle chatter before Harry announces he’s finished.  
“Don’t look yet though, I’m coming to get you.”  
True to his word, Harry soon appears at Louis’ door, and helps him out once again. Louis holds his breath all the way to their stopping point where Harry lets go of him.  
“Okay… OPEN.”  
Louis pulls the scarf down and his eyes light up. The back of his van, which had previously housed a couple of suitcases, blankets, and some ugly upholstery had been transformed into the Taj Mahal of van trunks.  
Harry had covered the entire floor with long beautiful blankets and pillows along the edges. He hung tapestries on the walls and ceiling, as well as managed to string star-shaped lights along the top railing.  
“Harry, I-” Louis begins, his words fading out quickly.  
“Do you like it?”  
Louis glances at Harry who looks back at him, expectantly.  
“It’s really good, H.”  
Harry grins. “Just call me Bobby.”  
A beat passes, and Louis thinks for a second before asking:  
“Why are you being so nice to me?”  
Harry seems taken aback at the question at first, but the longer Louis looks at him, the more it pushes him to think.  
“Well I guess you saved me when I was stranded on the side of the road. Least I could do was not be an ass.”  
Louis doesn’t know why he was expecting his reasoning to be anymore that what it was, but he did.  
“Okay.” is all he can say in response.  
“Do you want to take a look inside?”  
“Sure.”  
Louis dips his head, and crawls into the back, making sure to kick off his dirty shoes so he doesn’t ruin all the nice stuff Harry to all that trouble to buy. And he can’t lie, it’s super comfortable. From the first time, he slept in this van to now, Louis has without a doubt leveled up on comfort. What he is worried about is though, is the space.  
“How are we both going to sleep in here?” Louis asks, to Harry who was sitting across from him.  
“It’ll just be a bit snug, we’ll be fine.”  
*  
“Harry.” Louis groans, tugging the blanket back. “You’re hogging again.”  
“I’m sorry.” he whines. “I’m a big person.”  
“I thought you were going to use the other blanket.”  
“I told you, that one was too hot.”  
Harry sighs and balls up his end of the blanket they were sharing and tosses it to Louis.  
“Just take it, I’m getting hot anyway.”  
Louis eagerly pulls the blanket completely over himself, but he can’t help but notice Harry sit up beside him. Even through the darkness, Louis can see Harry hooking his thumbs into the collar of his shirt, and pulling it over his head.  
“Must you always be shirtless?” Louis mumbles.  
“Must you always check me out?” Harry quips back, before leaning back beside Louis.  
“Shut up.”  
“Good night.”  
*  
Sacramento, California

“Louis.”  
Louis can hear, but he chooses to ignore him. He can’t help it, he got less than quality sleep in the van the night before, and truthfully, he loves teasing Harry.  
“Louis.” Harry says, louder this time.  
Louis stifles a chuckle, but it’s rudely interrupted by a newspaper smacking him in the face.  
Louis grumbles, tossing the paper aside.  
“I’m sleeping, darling.”  
“Well we’re here, dear.”  
Louis opens one eye, and looks around, realizing Harry is right. He sits up quickly.  
“We made it to the other coast!” he says, excitedly, staring at the ocean on the horizon.  
“Yes, we have. And I’ve decided to celebrate we’re going to the state fair.”  
“Are we now?” Louis asks, looking over at Harry.  
“It’ll be fun Louis.” Harry assures.  
“I’ll only go if you buy me Cotton Candy.”  
“Deal.”  
*  
“You said this would be fun.” Louis moans, wiping the sweat from his forehead.  
“It’s so fucking hot.”  
“I know I know.” Harry says, pulling at his shirt, trying to create any airflow.  
“I swear to god if you take off the shirt-” Louis starts, and Harry laughs.  
“I promise it stays on.”  
“Good.”  
Harry pushes his sunglasses up onto his head and squints into the distance.  
“I think I see Cotton Candy way up there. If we make it there you can get Cotton Candy and I can get us water bottles.”  
“Good plan, let’s do that.”  
They wade through the crowds of hip Californians and heat, trying to reach the Cotton Candy stand Harry allegedly saw.  
“Are you sure it wasn’t a mirage?”  
“Now you’re just being dramatic.” Harry tells Louis. “It’s right over there.”  
“If I was being dramatic, I would have asked you to carry me.”  
“And I would have said no.” Harry finishes. “Not because I couldn’t, but because you are so sweaty.”  
Louis whaps him in the arm as he so often does when Harry gets cheeky, and Harry just smiles.  
Finally, they reach the line which was unfairly long, and while they’re waiting, Louis finally gets a chance to take in the fair. He had kind of a one-track mind coming here, (cotton candy is really good) but despite the heat, the fair decked out in colorful rides and booths seems to be really fun.  
“Oh, look there’s a Ferris Wheel.” Harry says, happily, motioning to the giant wheel just ahead of them. “I’m going to go on it.”  
“Right now?”  
“Yes, right now!” Harry says, as if Louis’ question was stupid. “Here’s the cotton candy money and my stuff that you have to hold.”  
Louis can’t protest as Harry hangs the camera around his neck, shoves a couple dollars into his hand, and hangs his sunglasses on Louis’ collar before heading out.  
“It’ll be just like Love, Simon.” Harry calls, and Louis bursts out laughing.  
“Because you’re a queer person riding a Ferris wheel?”  
“Exactly.”  
Louis watches Harry leave, but after he disappears into the crowd, Louis becomes exponentially more bored. It’s been days and days since he didn’t have the lanky boy to entertain him, and give him a nice thing to look at; Louis had almost forgot what it was like before Harry was with him on the trip. Remembering he had the camera of said lanky boy, Louis decided to be nosy and look through it, maybe take some stupid pictures. He wonders if Harry takes nudes with his camera, because that is something Louis would genuinely love to happen upon. Not really knowing anything about technology, it takes him a few tries to get it on, and a few more tries to get to the pictures he takes, but once he does, he’s in.  
He clicks into the most recent picture, which is a shot of the fair, all bright and alive with the ocean bright behind it. Louis flicks back another, and is surprised to see a photo of, well, himself. It’s a shot of him sleeping in the passenger seat of the van. Assuming Harry intended some sort of practical joke, he journeys further back to see other photos, but in each city, he finds the same thing. There are brilliant shots of the Vegas strip, the girl with flowers from Sedona, and even back to the swamps of the Everglades, there are pictures of him. Louis sleeping, Louis laughing, Louis stepping into the ocean for the first time in his whole life. He looks over to the Ferris Wheel, where he can see Harry riding upwards in his seat. He waves at Louis and Louis’ heart absolutely melts. Louis quickly turns the camera off with one hand, and waves with the other one. As Harry’s cart passes to the other side of the Ferris Wheel, Louis tries to wrap his head around what he just saw on the camera. He knows that Harry ‘likes his face,’ he made that abundantly clear in their first interaction, but there has to be more to it than that. There is no way he would take this many photos of Louis unless he was a stalker, or just someone who really likes Louis.  
All Louis knows for sure is that his travel companion is hot and really nice to him and has been collecting pictures of him like he’s a goddamn landmark for over a month. After getting his cotton candy, Louis sees the Ferris Wheel slowing, and Harry’s cart coming close to the bottom, and without thinking he rushes over. He apologetically steps in front of the three people already in line, and hands money to the man at the booth.  
“Can I get on with that guy who is about to get off?” Louis asks. “Just one more ride?”  
The man smiles at him. “Sure thing, kid.”  
Louis looks over at Harry who had noticed him at this point, baring an expression of confusion and joy.  
Harry sits back down, and Louis joins him shortly after, handing him his camera, and settling in, their arms pressed against each other’s.  
“What?” Louis asks, as Harry refuses to stop staring at him. Staring at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter, and his face turn all red. “I just wanted to go on the ride.”  
Harry bites his lip. “Sure, you’re not my Blue?”  
Louis only shrugs.

Crater Lake, Oregon 

After seeing what was on Harry’s camera, Louis doesn’t really know how to act around Harry. Correction. After deciding that he can’t deny the fact he has a crush on Harry anymore, and that after seeing Harry’s pictures of him, he might like him back; Louis does not know what to do with this information. He was pretty chill for the rest of Sacramento, but if it isn’t already obvious, Louis is never the one to make the first move. He’s more the ‘flirt with you in kind of a mean way until you catch on’ kind of a guy. And that tactic clearly does not bode well in a situation like this. As they drive to Crater Lake, a place Harry had actually been before, Louis contemplated what to do through a lengthy entry in his journal.  
“What do you write in there?” Harry asks.  
“Write in where?” Louis asks back without looking up from his writing.  
“In your notebook. Like this one, not your work one.:  
“Oh, it’s just-” Louis pauses, before looking at Harry. “None of your business.”  
“Guess I’ll just have to break into it when you’re sleeping.”  
“Well that sounds like a restraining order waiting to happen.”  
*  
Crater Lake is really when things took a turn for the unbearable. Harry and Louis go hiking together, and when Louis gets tired, Harry gives him a goddamn piggyback ride up the hill. And then Harry is offering to build them a fire, and in Yakima, Harry is suggesting they pretend to be foreigners who don’t speak English just because he thought Louis would have fun. In Yakima, Louis can’t ignore the fact that his crush on Harry is creeping up on him faster than anything he’s ever felt before. And the fact that Harry is flirting with him what seems like incessantly, is not helping. And yes, it makes Louis feels alive and happy, but he keeps thinking back to the photos, and wondering when and if he should bring it up to Harry. He uses the entire trip to Idaho to convince himself either way, half praying for a sign from the universe, but he unfortunately does not get far. 

National Panhandle Forest, Idaho

“We’re camping again tonight.” Harry tells Louis, who grimaces.  
“My back can’t handle this.” he complains. “I’m 24, but I have the body of a 60-year-old.”  
“Oh, that’s a load of bullshit, Lou, you know you’re fit.”  
Louis laughs. “I mean like joints and shit, not physique.” he says, smacking Harry in the arm. “I didn’t play soccer for 12 years to not be fit.”  
“I’m liking the confidence.”  
“Me too.”  
And he is. Louis is kind of running on a confidence high. After spending time with Harry in Yakima, a boring city that he made light up like the 4th of July, he had the same effect on Louis. Right now, Louis is at a place where he even may feel confident enough to approach Harry about the photos, something he’s been expertly avoiding for almost three cities.  
*  
“I can guarantee this will be the highlight of your trip.” Harry says, settling in beside Louis on the blanket, their shoulder brushing against each other.  
“Would you be your life on that?” Louis asks. “Swear on your own future grave?”  
“That’s morbid.” Harry says, glancing at Louis. “I don’t want to think about my own future grave.”  
“It’s hypothetical, H.” Louis reminds him. “Don’t have to get all serious about it.”  
“Sorry. I don’t like death.”  
“Well, nobody does.”  
Harry bites his lip, and leans back, so he can lay down on the blanket and look up at the sky. Louis’ never been one for verbal comfort, but he can tell that Harry is significantly affected by death talk, so he pushes himself to try.  
“Hey H, if you want to talk about something we can.” Louis says, leaning onto his back to meet him where he is.  
Harry looks over at him and nudges a little into Louis’s shoulder, letting out a soft sigh.  
“It’s nothing, really, I just don’t like losing people y’know?”  
“I get it.” Louis says, sympathizing with Harry. “Pictures help with that though. Get to capture a little bit of the moment.”  
Harry smiles. “Yeah, I think that’s kind of why I started. I was just trying to freeze everything. Keep it how it was.”  
A beat passes.  
“Sorry,” Harry says, “that was deep.”  
“You can get deep with me.” Louis insists.  
“Thanks Louis.”  
It’s quiet again, and Louis feels a flutter in his stomach. He knows this is the time to bring up the photos, to ask why, but he can’t find the words or even the confidence before his internal monologue is stopped by the sky bursting to life.  
Louis had seen a lot of new, beautiful things over the course of this trip, but absolutely nothing he had seen could compare to the Aurora Borealis exploding across the sky right above him. Huge bright stars blanketed by waves of bright green and pink, looking like silk unfurled across the sky. It seems surreal that something like this even exists in nature. Harry reaches to his side to grab his camera and pulls it to his eyes to snap pictures, while Louis just stares in awe.  
“Highlight of your trip?” Harry asks.  
“Definitely.”  
Harry lets out a low whistle. “Not even a snarky response. Finally got something to take your breath away.”  
“It’s just so pretty.”  
They fall quiet, and for a second, the whole world is encompassed between the two of them, and the stars.  
“Louis, I have to tell you something.”  
Louis’ heart rate increases, and before Harry can continue, Louis cuts him off, and looks him straight in the eye.  
“Me first.” he blurts out. “I saw the pictures of me on your camera.”  
Harry’s eyes widen, and before Louis can think of what he’s actually going to say, he keeps talking. “And-and I-”  
And when the words stop coming, Louis doesn’t hesitate to grab onto Harry’s collar and pull him in for a kiss. Harry kisses back instantly, and Louis finally releases almost two months of built up tension between them. Harry’s lips are sweet and soft, but his kiss is rough, and messy, and only gets needier as Louis gives in to him. Harry takes his arm, and loops it around Louis’ waist, pulling him to straddle Harry’s hips.  
“We’re missing the Northern Lights.” Harry breathes, in between kisses, prompting Louis to pull back.  
“Do you want me to stop?”  
Harry chuckles, pulling Louis back down to him. “No.”  
Louis kisses him again, and against his better judgement, finds his hands working on the top button of Harry’s shirt.  
“Wait.” Harry says, stopping Louis’ hands. “Do you want this?” he asks., “Because I know you hated me up until like a month ago, and the camera pictures were intrusive, and I can get on your nerves because I’m pretentious and I talk too much but-”  
“Harry.” Louis soothes, cupping his face gently. “Yes, we had issues in the past, but we didn’t even know each other then. A lot has changed in a month, and we both know that there is something here.”  
Harry stares at him intently.  
“And yeah, I tend to overthink things a lot and I know this is something we should probably talk about and I’ll go write in my journal later but right now, can you please let me kiss you?”  
Harry nods, and desperately reconnects his lips to Louis’. Louis notices quite quickly, Harry really likes his mouth. He barely lets Louis get a breath in between kisses before devouring him once again; and Louis isn’t complaining. Louis reaches for the buttons again, and this time, Harry lets him. Louis rips through them, eager to get his hands on Harry’s body. Harry wraps an arm around Louis and sits up, before completely removing his shirt and tossing it aside. Louis expects some quip from Harry about his shirtlessness, about him finally allowing it, but Harry is all bleary eyes and pink lips begging Louis to keep going. Louis discards his own shirt, and presses his chest against Harry’s warm one, and Harry’s eyes flutter shut. Louis can feel, as he presses himself more roughly against Harry, that both of them are getting hard. “Let me suck you off.” Harry mumbles, in that throaty raspy voice usually reserved for early mornings. His words go straight to Louis’ dick, and it makes it pretty impossible for Louis to form a coherent sentence. Harry takes his silence as an invitation to slip his hand between them, and roughly grip Louis through his shorts. Loui releases a groan from low in his stomach, but still says nothing, which only makes Harry more desperate. “Louis, please.” he whines, and that’s when louis snaps back into reality. “Uh yeah yeah, fuck, please.” Harry flips them over easily, their size difference becoming more apparent than ever. Harry tentatively palms over the tent in Louis’ shorts, and Louis sucks in a sharp breath. He hadn’t been touched like this in a long time, especially not by someone like Harry, so every touch set him on fire. As he studies his movements, Louis genuinely cannot believe the hot, cocky asshole version of Harry is the same person as the needy, desperate boy, begging for Louis’ cock in his mouth. Harry leans down and mouths over Louis’ cock through the fabric, and Louis finally realizes just how much Harry is teasing him. He’s taking so long, and louis knows his cock is already flushed red and leaking at the tip. “H, I need you.” he tells Harry, gripping his hair. “Need your mouth, now.” Harry, presenting as much more submissive than Louis would have guessed, immediately rucks down Louis’ shorts and underwear, before grabbing hold of Louis’ cock, and slipping it between his pouty pink lips. Harry mouth’s is soft, and velvety, and tight around Louis’ prick, and it makes Louis weak in the knees. His balls tense as Harry presses down lower, so near gagging himself on Louis. He picks up a steady rhythm, bobbing on Louis’ cock, and Louis becomes a moaning mess. “Fuckin’ hell, H.” Louis groans, tossing his head back. “Why d’you talk so much if you can do this with your mouth?” Harry doesn’t answer, much to engrossed in what he was doing. He clutches Louis’ tanned hipbone, and without warning, pushes Louis’ dick down his throat. He can only hold it for a second before he gags and sputters off. He immediately tries to take Louis again, but Louis cups his cheeks and quickly kisses him. “You don’t have to do that, baby.” Harry blinks at him. “Just wanted to make you feel good.” Louis melts, and kisses him again. “You did.” he coos, “Just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Harry nods, and Louis takes the opportunity, to reach down and touch Harry who was completely ignoring the fact he was hard as a rock. “Take these off.” Louis instructs, gripping at the waistband of Harry’s shorts, and Harry is quick to follow the order. And when Louis sees Harry’s cock, which was quite a bit longer than his, he could have blown his load right there. Louis uses a featherlight touch, and Harry winces. Louis scoots in closer so his prick brushes against Harry’s and Harry quickly grips Louis’ hips, and pulls him closer, as the friction was the first release he had received. Despite having relatively small hands, Louis slips his calloused hand around both his and harry’s member, and begins to jerk them off. Harry lets out a string of curse words under his breath at the feeling of his cock brushing roughly against Louis’. “Feel good?” Louis asks, using his other hand to tangle his fingers in the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck. “So good Lou.” he breathes. “You love it when I touch you like this?” Harry nods, and kisses Louis roughly, pressing their foreheads against each other. Louis twists his wrist to get them to that place they were both heading towards, and surprisingly, harry doesn’t let him. Harry pulls his hand back, and keeps kissing Harry before leaning into his ear. “I want you to fuck me.” And that’s when Louis genuinely transcends to another plane of being. The rest of the night is a haze. Harry producing lube from his bag, and Louis slipping his fingers and his tongue into Harry’s tight little asshole, before both of them get what they had both secretly been thinking about for week. They feel each other, they anchor to each other, and the whole rest of the world seems to go away, as Louis thrusts into Harry, messily jerking Harry’s cock against his stomach, and making both of them come. It doesn’t take long after they finish for Louis to clean both of them off, and for Harry to nudge himself into Louis’ side. Louis wraps his arm around the curly headed boy, and presses a chaste kiss to the top of his head. Harry tugs the blanket over both of them, and Louis closes his eyes, reeling from finally being with Harry, and content to fall asleep with him in his arms. 

*  
Louis wakes up the next morning, and immediately, the events of last night come flooding back to him. He feels the tickle of Harry’s soft breath against his neck He looks down at Harry, peacefully pressed up against him, with little clothes on, and he takes a deep breath. Louis hadn’t even thought of any ramifications of being with Harry because at the time it felt so right, but Louis’ impulsivity, which is rare, tends to get the better of him in the end. So as much as he doesn’t want to, he starts to think about it. He tries to overthink it he really does, but Harry is so soft, and sweet, and he kisses so well, that it is impossible to be holding such a pretty thing in his arms, and think it wrong. He revels in it a little longer, as he works to bottle up his feelings of stress over last night, but eventually he has to pull himself out of the bubble. Louis carefully slips out of Harry’s grasp, and sits on the edge of the blanket, to take in the fresh air around him. He twiddles his thumbs, as he looks out over the expanse of the forest. It’s not long before he hears Harry stirring behind him, but he doesn’t move It’s about ten minutes later, when he hears, Harry’s deep morning voice ring out.  
“Louis... You look like you’re overthinking.”  
Instead of bottling it down, Louis has a sudden urge to open up to Harry, one he had literally never felt before, with Harry or otherwise.  
“You know me too well.” he says, glancing over his shoulder at Harry, now sitting up, the blanket tugged around his shoulders.  
“I know you like writing in your book, but if you want, I could be your journal?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Just tell me what you would write down.” he insists. “I promise it won’t hurt my feelings if you think I was shit at sex.”  
Louis is quick to deny that claim. “Oh no that is definitely not the issue at hand.”  
Harry snorts. “Good to know.”  
Louis laughs a little too, and despite what he had done his entire life, Louis makes it his mission to stay what’s on his mind to Harry.  
“Okay.” he says, coming over to sit in front of Harry. “It’s going to be a lot of rambling, and you don’t have to answer, and if you want to you can do it when I’m done alright?”  
Harry nods, and Louis begins.  
“Okay I’m stressed out but I don’t really know why so I think that’s why I’m overthinking. I have a general feeling of anxiety over making irrational decisions, and I think because the thought I put into this important thing, was much less than everything else I do, it scares me.”  
Louis looks at Harry expectantly, and Harry reaches over to slip his hand into Louis’.  
“Here’s what I think Lou. Sometimes you don’t have to think a lot about things that make sense. Things are allowed to be easy. And as far as this decision being irrational, I believe it was quite the opposite. We liked each other, we did something about it. Seems rational to me.”  
Louis is utterly taken aback at how, in one second, Harry can make all his problems disappear into thin air. He makes sense of the jumble in Louis’ brain, and soothes his nerves with the utmost ease.  
“You’re right.” Louis admits.  
Harry smiles and leans in to press a soft kiss to Louis’ lips.  
“We should eat out of here.” Harry suggests, “I can get us breakfast, you can do some writing.” He waggles his eyebrows at Louis who laughs.  
“Sounds like a plan, H.”  
The two of them set to work packing up the van, sharing glances, and the occasional peck, before getting in, and getting out of the national forest. Harry drives them to a nearby diner and Louis gets to work catching up on the writing he had ignored since New York. He pulls out his laptop at the table and lets Harry order for the both of them, as he finishes his entries on Sacramento, Crater Lake, and his favorite of all: The National Panhandle Forest.

***  
Both Miles City and Wall Drug are a blur, as Louis and Harry travel through them. Louis and Harry quickly find pictures and attractions that their bosses would like, Louis’ being unlikely tourist traps, and Harry’s being aesthetically pleasing shots, before taking their time traveling the way they wanted to. This mainly consisted of Harry pushing Louis to do new things such as horse drawn carriage rides and going skinny dipping on a night filled with stars, and Louis getting Harry to take pictures with giant plastic dinosaurs. It was fun and free, and Louis Can't remember a time he felt more alive. And he felt the writing he had been doing recently was reflecting that too. He Felt that the writing he could do so easily about his emotions and how happy or sad he was, is finally translating to his work writing, and it’s giving his work brand new life.  
“Absolutely beautiful, Tommo!” his boss tells him, as they’re leaving Wall Drug. “You can tell how much fun you’re having, and all of us reading can feel it too.”  
“Thanks Darryl.” Louis says, genuinely. “I am.”  
Darryl laughs. “Can’t wait to hear all about it when you get back. This is the home stretch.”  
“Bye.”  
As he hangs up the phone, he’s happy still, but Darryl’s words about the trip being over soon kind of stick with him. He has only got about three more cities before it’s back to boring old Allentown, and back to his boring old life. Louis ignores that thought, in favor of tuning back in to the crappy indie music Harry has been trying to get him to listen to.  
“I still don’t like it, H.”  
“That’s because your music taste is shit!” Harry exclaims, and Louis rolls his eyes. “All your favorite bands died out in the 90’s.”  
“Touché.”  
*  
Minneapolis, Minnesota 

“We’re in St. Paul now, so Minneapolis is just on the other side of this city.” Louis says, merging into the left lane.  
“I’m excited.” Harry says, running a hand through his hair. “We haven’t been in a big city for too long. Like South Dakota was fun and all, but this is much more my speed.”  
“Same. I know they have a lot of cool art museums and stuff here, so I thought we could do some of that.”  
Harry nods. “Sounds calm and pretty. Very my speed.”  
“Then how on earth do you like me?” Louis asks, a smirk on his face, making Harry laugh.  
“Hey, don’t underestimate, my passion for the exciting and sexy.”  
“I wouldn’t dare.”  
When they reach downtown Minneapolis, their eyes are immediately drawn away from their destination of the Walker art museum, to directly across from it where hordes of people and bright rainbow colors are gathered.  
“It’s’ Pride!!” Harry says, happily. “Louis, we have to go, we have to.”  
Louis raise his eyebrows. “You really want to?”  
Harry nods furiously. “Have you ever been?”  
Louis shakes his head, eliciting a literal gasp from Harry.  
“You’re kidding.”  
“Okay calm down.” Louis says, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “You’re being annoyingly gay.”  
Harry snorts. “Okay I’m overreacting, but it used to be like the one time a year I got to go have fun and be me. I’ve never gone to one outside of Allentown so I think it would be fun. And it would add some diversity to your writing.”  
Louis gives him an offended face. “You saying my writing sent diverse.”  
Harry shrugs, a cheeky grin on his lips, and Louis whaps him.  
“You know what? Fine. We’re going.”  
Louis merges to the ramp leading them to the Pride festival, and manages to find a parking space, open, and big enough for their giant van.  
Just as he’s about to get out, Harry puts his hand on Louis’ leg.  
“You know I think you’re cute and fashionable— but you can’t go looking like that.”  
Louis almost protests, but after glancing down at his dirty white shirt and basketball shorts, he can’t.  
“What do you have in mind?”  
Harry crawls into the back of the band, and Louis follows, as Harry begins to sift through his luggage.  
“You’re not a very practical packer.” Louis comments, watching Harry toss around silk shirt after silk shirt.  
“But I look good.” he responds, and Harry can’t argue with that. Harry never looks bad.  
Quickly, he produces some cuffed jean shorts and a willowy shirt in bright yellow, covered in flowers.  
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”  
“The color will look good on you trust me.” Harry urges. “The shorts might be snug on your ass, but it’ll be fine.”  
“I’m trusting you here Harry,” Louis says, pulling his shirt over his head. “Because clearly this isn’t my regular look.”  
“Live a little, Tomlinson.” Harry says, as Louis slips Harry’s shirt over his frame. “You know you have more fun when you do.”  
Louis takes his advice, and after Harry fixes his buttons, and the way he should tuck the shirt, Louis has to admit he looks good as fuck.  
“We really need to have sex again after this.” Harry says, looking Louis up and down, and Louis laughs.  
“You like seeing me in your clothes?” Louis teases, and Harry sticks his tongue out at him, before tackling Louis, to give him a fervent kiss,  
“I thought you said after.” Louis breathes, pinned against the floor of the van.  
“What about before and after?” Harry whispers into his ear, and how could Louis say no to that proposition? About twenty minutes later, they finally emerge, more disheveled and red cheeked than they were, but also extremely happy.  
As promised by Harry, Pride is fun. It’s loud, and welcoming, and colorful, and the people around them make Louis want to be more open. They make him want to shout off the rooftops and be proud of himself, and it really is a good feeling.  
*  
Chicago goes by quickly, as they both knew how big of a city it was for tourists. Most of their time there was spent having sex, eating deep dish pizza, and trying to do the least amount of work possible for their respective jobs. It’s not until the car ride between Illinois and Ohio that the fact sets in that this is their last city before going home. The car is pretty quiet then. No one is asleep, or even working on their pieces, it’s just the two of them left alone with their thoughts. Louis especially ignores how this trip ending feels like a monumental punch in the gut for him. Not only has his relationship with Harry transformed over the course of this trip, but he feels like his entire life did a 180•  
Louis went into this trip, timid to say the least. He has been almost a shell of the person he wanted to be and knew he could be, and this trip changed all of that. Louis is confident again; his writing is at the best it’s ever been, and above everything Louis is happier than he’s been in probably the last ten years.  
He looks over at Harry, and it hurts him to see Harry’s soft pretty face in the permanent frown it’s been in since they got in the car and Louis announced it was the last city. He knows that Harry is feeling the same, if not worse than he is, and all he can do is try to make the best of the time they have left. 

Put-In-Bay, Ohio

Although the drive to Put-In-Bay was a somber one, entering the city is a little brighter because Louis remembers what he himself had planned for the city.  
“I’m sorry H, but whatever you had planned for us to do is irrelevant because we are doing my activity.”  
“And what makes you think your activity is better than mine?” A bit of banter is something that always cheers Harry up.  
“I don’t think— I know mine is better than yours.”  
“That’s a bold statement, Tomlinson considering you don’t know what mine is.”  
“Alright then let’s hear it.”  
“I was going to kayak on the bay.”  
Louis mines vomiting and Harry rolls his eyes.  
“Valiant effort, but mine still wins out.” Louis says, smugly. He pauses for dramatic affect: “mine is a drunk crystal cave tour.”  
Harry’s jaw drops. “Wait what?”  
“There’s a winery right about a crystal cave and you get lit and look at crystals.”  
Harry laughs. “That sounds amazing.”  
Louis grins. “It’s perfect. I’ve never seen you drunk before so it’ll be a double win.”  
“Just warning you I get handsy.”  
“More handsy than normal?”  
Harry just smirks.  
*  
It’s about an hour into the cave tour and Louis is sufficiently buzzed. Both he and Harry, as well as a troupe of others are currently traipsing their way through a crystal cave, each sipping on a personal bottle of expensive ass wine. Harry hand had already gravitated to his ass about three tones, and it only took Louis tripping over a rock for Harry to move his hand up around Louis’ shoulders to keep him steady.  
“This is the prettiest bullshit ever,” Harry says, his words slurring ever so slightly. He lifts his camera and snaps a picture, turning back to take a sip of his drink.  
“You’re the prettiest bullshit ever.” Louis shoots back. He pulls Harry closer against him, and Harry offers a lazy grin, and smacks an unapologetic kiss to Louis’ lips. It’s messy, and awkward, but Louis melts into it, feeling his knees going weak, a little from the alcohol, but mostly from Harry.  
“Didn’t realize you were a lightweight, Tommo.” Harry teases, and Louis wrinkles his nose.  
“Don’t call me Tommo.”  
“Sorry.” Harry tells him, appearing genuinely apologetic. “Know you told me not to.”  
“It’s fine Harry.” Louis says, patting his chest, but Harry pouts a little.  
“Don’t want to make you mad on our last night together.”  
Louis’ heart drops into his stomach at Harry’s words.  
“We just- we don’t have any time together and its shit, and I’m trying to pretend this isn’t happening Louis, but it is.”  
“I know.” Louis says weakly.  
“And-”  
A woman behind them loudly clears her throat. Both men turn around to look at her, and she puts a finger to her lips before motioning back to the tour guide.  
“Sorry.” Harry says through his teeth, before turning back around. Their conversation is left stale as the two of them try to respect the others on the tour who apparently could not handle two people talking in front of them. At least that’s how Louis felt. After about another hour of trying to have fun and feel light hearted through that underlying tension, the two of them return to the van with empty bottles in tow.  
“I can’t drive.” Louis says simply, clutching Harry’s arm.  
“Me either.”  
“We probably should have realized this would happen.” Louis says, chuckling. “Couple of idiots we are.”  
“It’s not our fault.” Harry insists. “We’ve been busy thinking about other things.”  
Louis nods slowly, although his brain is inhibited, he knows exactly what Harry’s talking about.  
They go quiet, and they take this time to get in the back of the van, still set up from their previous sleepovers. The two of them pile in and shut the door, before laying back and staring up at the ceiling.  
“Do you want to talk now?” Louis asks, breaking the silence. Harry gives a sad laugh.  
“I mean there isn’t really any other time for us.” he says. “We go home tomorrow.”  
Louis screws his eyes shut. He knows alcohol makes him much more susceptible to high emotions, but he really really doesn’t want to cry.  
“Okay, I’m thinking and feeling a lot of things so I’m just going to do the thing where I spill out my heart to you and then you respond and make it better, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
Louis takes a deep breath before speaking. “This trip was probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I feel like I got to be the person I always wanted to be, and I got someone like you which never even crossed my mind when I started this. And everything is great but the thing is, this trip isn’t real life.” Louis pauses his ramblings as he feels a lump form in his throat, and tears forming just in the corner of his eyes. Harry reaches over and slips his hand into Louis’, holding it firmly to provide a show of support, which is enough for Louis to continue. “And I just feel like nothing will be the same out there. I just feel like you’re so fun and wild and exciting, and out in the real world, when you see what I’m really like, you won’t feel the same as you do now. “  
His voice cracks on the last words, and Harry can barely contain himself in shifting over to Louis to hold him in his arms. Louis buries his face into Harry’s arms,  
“I know what you mean.” Harry says softly, and Louis can hear the wetness in his voice. “It’s hard spending time in a place that you know can’t last forever. But this doesn’t have to change things, Lou. Of course, everything around, us is changing, but between us; I don’t know why you think all my feelings for you would just go away.”  
Louis looks up at Harry and bites down on his lip. He feels so vulnerable under his gaze, but he can tell Harry is putting himself out in the open as well.  
“I have to admit, going on this trip was sort of my escape plan. I felt like I was running away from all of my other problems, trying to ignore the fact I was feeling lost. I didn’t think anything would come out of it, other than a break from my normal life.”  
Louis leans up to kiss him softly, and Harry responds with the same passion he always has.  
“We’re going to be fine, okay?” Louis mumbles, assuring himself more so than Harry.  
“Okay Louis.”  
*  
Following their conversation, Louis stays curled in Harry’s arms until the two of them fall asleep. Louis wakes up with a numb hand, but a full heart as he thinks back on the time he and Harry spent on the trip together. He wakes Harry up soon after, giving him a kiss and pulling him up out of his curled-up position. Louis offers to drive, as he can see Harry is a little more subdued than usual. Although it’s hard, as they start the drive back to Allentown, Louis feels a weight off his shoulders because he thinks that no matter what happens, he won’t lose Harry. That’s what keeps him going. Luckily, because the drive between the last two cities was so long, they spend one more night together in the middle of nowhere. It’s not until they make it back to Allentown, two days later, when it really hits Louis that he has to go back to his normal life. He has to go back to his crappy apartment, sit in a cubicle every day, and get called Tommo on a regular basis. He doesn’t really know if he’s prepared for that. 

Allentown, Pennsylvania

“So…” Louis says, as the reach downtown Allentown, “Where am I taking you?”  
“Um, probably my house?”  
“Oh, I see.” Louis says, “You want me to go to your place.”  
Harry’s face lights up a little as he hears the beginnings of a classic bit of banter.  
“Well, we hardly know each other, but you seemed easy, so...”  
Louis’ jaw drops. “Easy? Easy my ass.”  
Harry chuckles, “Bringing your ass into this probably isn’t the best move for your argument.”  
Louis rolls his eyes, and laughs with Harry as they relish in these last moments of their trip. Harry gives him his address, and about ten minutes later, when they pull up in front, he sees Harry all over it. He has a little house, that looks to be one floor. It’s covered in vines, and has weird funky jars everywhere, with a yoga mat out in front.  
“This is me.” Harry says, softly, and Louis smiles.  
“It really is.”  
He and Louis collect his things slowly, trying to hold out as long as possible, but when the two of them are up at the door, they know it’s time to say goodbye.  
“I’ll call you.” Louis says, weakly, holding on to Harry’s hands.  
“Promise?”  
“Promise.”  
Harry pulls him into a bone crushing hug, and Louis returns it. He pulls back only to connect his lips to Harry’s. They kiss for too long, but when they separate, Louis gives Harry a smile, and heads back to the van. Harry waves him all the way to the end of the block. As Louis lets himself into his apartment that night, he feels... Different; but he’s sure this kind of different is a good one.  
*  
It’s not until he makes it back to work on Monday that he realizes it’s missing. And when he realizes its missing, he feels like someone shoved a knife in his back. And he tries to think rationally about it, but his habit of overthinking and the fact it seems pretty clear what happened makes him feel utterly heartbroken. He’s heartbroken because he got to work and realized that his notebook is gone. All of his writing from every city, everything he saved, and all of his feelings about the last places and the trip as a whole are gone. And all he can keep thinking about is what his boss said before he left

“Oh, and Tomlinson, watch out for Full Frame.” he says, pushing his glasses up onto his head. “Word on the street is they’re embarking on a similar summer trip, so be wary of anyone looking up to no good. Keep your writing to yourself.”

Harry got close to him, made him feel things for him, and gave him an entire trip full of happiness and adventure, and it seems like every part of it was a ploy to get his writing. It’s the only explanation, and it makes Louis’ blood boil. His sadness is derailed by the amount of rage he feels. He hadn’t talked to Harry since they got back two days ago, and know he realizes, even if he reached out, it wasn’t likely Harry would answer him. Before this trip, Louis would have been passive. He would have let this go, but now, Louis knows he needs to stand up for himself and fight. He throws some excuse to Niall about a doctor’s appointment and stalks out of the office with the intention of driving to Full Frame and handing Harry Styles his ass on a silver platter, which is exactly what he does. Well, he makes it to the parking lot before he starts to doubt his plan. However, he refuses to overthink, and he bursts in through the doors.  
He sets both hands down on the front desk, and the receptionist looks up.  
“May I help you, sir.”  
“Yes.” Louis says, through gritted teeth. “I’m here to see Harry Styles.”  
“Mr. Styles’ office is the third door down the hall.”  
“Thanks.”  
Louis makes his way down the hallway, and as he sees Harry’s name on the wall beside the door, the anger within him grows. He pushes the door open, and Harry looks up from his papers to see him at the door. For a split second, Harry’s face lights up, but he quickly notices Louis’ demeanor does not add up with a love-filled reunion.”  
“How. Dare. You.” Louis seethes, not caring how loudly he was speaking.  
Harry wears a look of total and utter confusion.  
“W-what?”  
“I honestly can’t believe you, Harry.” Louis says. “The fact that you are able to even do that to a person is probably one of the shittiest things I’ve ever heard.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
Louis laughs bitterly. “Don’t play dumb. You spent your entire trip schmoozing me, taking secret pictures, and being sweet to me, and the second I return from my trip, my notebook is gone. Coincidence?”  
Harry’s face softens, and Louis just gets angrier.  
“Louis-”  
“Don’t ‘Louis’, me.”  
“Louis.” Harry says louder, and Louis sighs.  
“What?”  
Harry goes over to his bag in the corner, and produces Louis’ notebook from the bag, before handing it to Louis, who is seriously taken aback.  
“But-”  
“You left it at our pit stop between Put-In-Bay and Allentown. I picked it up, and forgot to give it to you before we got back.” he explains carefully, and Louis quickly feels like a giant idiot. “I was going to give it back to you when I saw you, but you didn’t call.”  
“Oh my god, H.” he breathes, putting his face in his hands. “I’m the worst person ever.”  
Harry laughs gently, and envelops Louis in his arms.  
“You know I wouldn’t do something like that to you.”  
“I know.” Louis says. “I just got freaked.”  
“You should have called.”  
“I should have called.”  
Harry lifts Louis’ chin up to meet him in a kiss.  
“Hopefully my idiot days are behind me.” Louis says, his nose brushing against Harry’s, and his stomach filled to the brim with butterflies.  
“Even if they aren’t” Harry tells him,” I want you just the same.”  
“God, I love you.” Louis blurts out, and Harry only smiles.  
“I love you too.”  
*


End file.
